


teenage wasteland

by rocket_rach



Category: Trinity (Comics)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby puke, Fluff, Multi, SuperWonderBat Mini-Exchange 2019, Witchcraft, more at 10, teenage angst, why is an eight year old the maturest person in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 08:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_rach/pseuds/rocket_rach
Summary: for the lovely @androbeaurepaire for the SWB mini exchange!Bruce went and tracked a witch, and much like Icarus he flew too close to the sun. Now he's a baby, and he's not the only one who's being de-aged.





	teenage wasteland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [androbeaurepaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/androbeaurepaire/gifts).



It happened to Bruce first. They’d all fallen asleep, arms and legs tangled together underneath fine Egyptian cotton sheets. Clark always woke up first. He’d rub at his eyes, walk to the window, and take in the first bright rays of the day. Diana would wake when Bruce grumbled at the loss of Clark’s warmth at his side.

Usually with a curse.

But that morning, there was no grumpy cussing. There was, in fact, the sound of a baby gearing up for a truly colossal wail. He was at the bed in a flash, catching Diana’s hand that had flown up, ready to strike at the new arrival.

“Where’s Bruce?” She asked, making a face at his hand holding her back. “Seriously? I would’ve stopped before I hit. Is that a baby?”

Clark finally released her hand, and together they pulled the bedsheets back.

A chubby, black haired, blue eyed baby was nearly swallowed by Bruce’s boxers. His tiny fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were red. The Kryptonian sat down, gently picking the baby up. He couldn’t hear the reverberating bass beat of Bruce’s heart. But this baby’s heart _beat_ in a quicker, but similar cadence.

“There’s magic at work here,” Diana murmured as she sat up. She offered her finger to the still wailing baby, who loosened his fist long enough to take it. “He kind of looks like Bruce, doesn’t he?”

“Di,” Clark murmured. “I think this _is_ Bruce.”

The baby stopped wailing.

“Oh, Hera help us.”

 

 

His children found it hilarious. There were more Wayne children in the manor now than there had been in a long time. Dick and Jason took turns carrying Bruce around. Tim had brought diapers and pacifiers when he arrived, Cass and Damian had helped teach Duke how to hold the head. Alfred had been lurking in the shadows with a camera, snapping photo after photo. They had a family dinner together, and Clark held Bruce, letting him sleep on his shoulder. Then the time for patrol came, and they all filed out for the evening. Diana held Bruce on her hip as they climbed to the master suite.

“Have you ever thought about it?” She asked as Clark shut the door behind them.

“Thought about what?”

“The three of us, having a baby,” The amazon murmured as she laid on her back, with Bruce resting on her chest. “I know we have Bruce’s kids and your kids and my girls. But, I do want a baby. With the both of you.”

“I would love that, would you, Bruce?” He asked, his index finger lifting Bruce’s little chin up.

Bruce's snot bubble popped.

“I think he loves it, too,” Clark laughed.

Bruce scrunched his face up, his tiny fist swatting Clark’s finger from his chin. Diana sniffed.

“It’s your turn to change his diaper,” She said after a beat. She held Bruce to Clark like an offering, a smirk on her face. 

He took Bruce, holding him at arm’s length. Damned with his heightened senses, he made quick work of the ruined diaper and Bruce.

“You’re awfully stinky, you know that?” He cooed as they left the bathroom. “I thought that was something that just happened when you started being a vigilante. Poor Alfred, wh- Hey! Don’t spit up on me!”

Bruce laughed, vomit still on his lips.

“Di, can you take him back? I have to change shirts. He thinks he’s a comedian now, I guess.”

“Whatever,” came from the closet.

“Whatever? Di, are you- Oh, jeez, not you, too.”

A sixteen-year-old Diana Prince stepped out of the closet, a look of pure and utter boredom on her face. She looked at Bruce, then at Clark’s shirt, then rolled her eyes.

“Fine, give the _only girl_ in the relationship the baby. That’s not sexist or anything.”

“I could just put him on the bed?”

“Smart move, breeder. Put the baby who can’t lift his head on a bed with thick sheets. There’s _no way_ he’d suffocate to death.”

Clark blinked, holding the baby sized version of his boyfriend, talking to the 16-year-old teenage angst version of his girlfriend. Who apparently thought of Clark as a ‘breeder.’

“I really have no idea what to do or say here.”

“Of course you don’t,” she scoffed. “This never would have happened if I just stayed on Themyscira.”

Diana walked over to Clark and took Bruce out of his arms. She lifted him by his armpits, glaring at the baby as if he were the worst looking sewer rat in the world. Bruce started crying. Diana started crying louder. Clark went to change his shirt and hopefully find a keg of Budweiser in the closet.

They were still having their crying contest when he came back out. Diana sighed loudly, holding the still crying Bruce in the air.

“He’s annoying me.”

“Did you try calming him down?” Clark could feel a headache forming between his eyes.

She turned Bruce around to face her. “Hello, former billionaire grown adult man who somehow turned into a baby and now won’t stop going to the bathroom in his pants, can you please, with your large vocabulary, tell me what’s wrong?”

Clark placed a hand over his mouth, dragging it down his jaw in frustration at the sarcastic bite of her words.

Bruce kept wailing.

He closed the distance between them, taking Bruce from her. Once Clark was holding him, he settled, blinking away the tears in his eyes.

“I’m sleeping in here tonight. Alone.”

“Did you have this much angst the first time you were a teenager?” Clark asked as he finally reached the doorway.

“Yeah, I did. Then Antiope beat it out of me. Go away.”

Clark shut the door. He walked down towards the guest bedroom he used to sleep in before Bruce declared his love for Clark and Diana. The door opened quietly, and he crossed the carpeted floor to the full-sized bed. He sat on the bed, his back resting against the headboard and Bruce resting against his stomach.

“She’s sixteen now, and you’re still, what, a not even a year old? I haven’t dealt with any magic users lately. I know she hasn’t. So, what did you do?”

“Zah!” Bruce shouted.

Clark jumped. 

“Did you just talk?”

“Zah, ah na.”

He turned Bruce around, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. 

“What is that? A name?”

“Zah,” he mumbled around the fist half shoved into his mouth. “Mm-Zah.”

“Zah,” Clark said. Then, “Do you think Zatanna could help?”

Bruce’s chubby baby cheeks dimpled with the strength of his smile.

“Do you think we could get Miss Teen Angst to join us?”

The baby gurgled.

“Yeah, didn’t think so. Maybe reverse psychology would work on her? It has to, right? I mean, I can’t just go to Themyscira on my own and get Antiope to train the attitude of her again. You’re in no state to go anywhere either. I guess you’re right about Zatanna. She’d handle this the best. John Constantine would probably just try to get baby you to smoke some of his terrible cigarettes,” he paused. “Okay. That was unfair. I’m overreacting. I’m just worried that the longer we wait… I’m worried that the two of you will be stuck like this. Don’t get me wrong; this baby you is _adorable_. But I miss being in your arms. I miss being sandwiched in between the both of you. I miss our battles together. I miss you, and I think I’m scared.”

The room was quiet after that, only broken by the snores that came from Bruce and Clark minutes later.

 

 

 

The sun rose, and for the first time in a very long time, Clark did not rise with it. In fact, Bruce felt heavier on his chest. He cracked an eye open.

He was eight years old again.

“Aw, come on,” his childlike voice burst out. “Seriously?”

Breakfast was chilly. Alfred had gone to fetch Diana, and she sassed him. Alfred had barged into the room, telling her very loudly that she may have recalled that he was the man who raised Bruce Wayne, and he had no time for entitled demigoddess princesses.

“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes,” Alfred said through the door.

“Whatever,” Diana said from the other side.

“Do be kind enough to leave that attitude in there,” He called as he went to the guest suite. “Good morning, Mister Kent.”

“Morning, Alfred. Can you help me carry Bruce down? He’s kind of hard for me to hold now.”

“It would be my pleasure,” the butler smiled as he picked up Bruce. “When did your change occur?”

“Last night,” Clark stretched as he got off the bed. “Went to sleep and woke up 24 years younger. What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs benedict with breakfast sausage, yogurt and strawberries. It would seem that I overestimated the amount of coffee needed this morning.”

They sat in the dining room a few minutes later, Clark digging into his breakfast with a ferocity that would have impressed Dick when he was eight years old. Upstairs, the door to Bruce’s bedroom banged open, and Diana stomped down every step. She sat at the far end of the table, dragging the chair out with a very loud, very long, and very anguished sigh, as if pulling the chair out was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She threw herself into her chair and began eating breakfast with her hands, no utensils.

Alfred’s eyelid started twitching.

“Hi, Diana!” Clark waved down the table.

She paused her disemboweling on the egg long enough to stare at Clark.

“Oh! I forgot to tell y'all,” Clark began around a mouthful of food. “I think Bruce was trying to tell me last night that he thinks Zatanna could help. You wouldn’t happen to know if she was in town, would’ja, Alfred?”

“She is,” Diana muttered. “She’s in town. I called her last night.”

“That’s great!”

“She said she wasn’t aware of any de-aging spells, so I guess I’m stuck at sixteen and Bruce is stuck as a baby until further notice.”

Alfred left the dining room as she broke a sausage link in half.

“Why’re you so mean?”

“I’m not mean, I’m angry.”

“What are you angry about?” Clark asked.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Grow up!” The eight-year-old shouted from his end of the table.

“I’m older than you!” The sixteen-year-old shouted from her end.

“Ah!” The 10-month-old added from his highchair.

“Hello!” Zatanna greeted the magic portal she arrived through. “I figured out a way to turn you all back. I just have to send pictures of you all to Justice League Dark, and then I’ll get the spell. Diana, hanging up on me last night was very rude.”

 

 

One picture later, the trinity were adults again. Zatanna patted Bruce on the back, told him he made an adorable baby, and then she was gone.

“I want to apologize,” Diana said, her eyes looking at the floor. “I didn’t… my behavior was horrible.”

“I puked on Clark,” Bruce shrugged. “I think we can all just… forgive whatever just occurred. I was the one who was tracking a witch, so really it’s all my fault.”

Diana and Clark nodded, smiles on their beautiful faces.

“That wasn’t the response I was looking for,” Bruce grumbled as his cheeks heated up.

“You thought it was a good idea to hunt down a witch while you’re dating a guy who has a weakness to magic and a girl who is also susceptible to magic?”

“Shut up, Kent.”

“I think I liked you better as a baby,” Diana said as she slung her arms around her boys waists.

“I think I liked him better as a baby, too,” Clark agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> listen once i wrote teen angst flavored diana i fell even more in love with her


End file.
